Haunts of the past, Love of the present
by dauntlesslydemigod
Summary: She's rich. She's bad. Her fists hit hard, and so do her words. Just when she was sure that her heart couldn't break further, he showed her that it could. But now, when she's forced to share a room with him a year later and dark secrets uncover themselves, she realises that maybe she isn't the only one who faces the darkness every night.
1. Chapter 1

Finally _._

As Clary looked out of the window of her train, that was the only word that came to her mind. She was finally going to Idris Academy to do what she wanted to, what her mother wanted her to. 

Her eyes went to her fingers, which were unusually lean and long, those of an artist. A small scar on her ring finger made her heart pang sharply, bringing many unwanted memories. She closed her eyes, trying to stash them away in some dark, deep corner, but they weren't to be denied. 

_He left you. Deal with it._ The rational, more prominent voice in her head said. _He never did care for you._

And yet, there was a small, almost insignificant whisper which was impossible to ignore _. Didn't he? Then why did he still keep looking at you when he thought you didn't know? What did his eyes say, Clary?_

And despite her strong denial, his gold eyes flashed across her mind, as clear as crystal. 

The way he called her Clarissa, stressing lightly on the last syllable. 

The way darkness clouded his perfectly sculpted features when he was angry. 

And the way his eyes looked at her blankly, refusing to acknowledge the pain that she was sure was visible on her face when he left her. 

A tear sparkled on her lashes, but she refused to let it drop. 

She was used to people leaving her. 

… 

As she pushed opened the glass door that entered to a huge glass building, Clary stepped up to the counter and pulled out a paper from her purse. "Hi. I'm Clarissa Fray." She said, handing her acceptance letter to the receptionist. "From Shadowhunter's Academy." 

The woman glanced at the letter before her face broke into a very wide smile. "Welcome to Idris Institute of Music, ma'am. Can I see your Identity card?" Clary slid the laminated paper across the counter to the woman whose name tag said _Kaelie_. She scanned it before handing her a plastic key card. 

"Your workshop begins from tomorrow morning at the University. Your room number is 2306, the balcony suite, which you'll be sharing with the other student selected from your college, –" She glanced at the computer screen in front of her, "Jacie Wayland." 

Clary suddenly turned white, her knuckles gripping the counter hard. "Wh – what did you say?" Her heart thudded against chest, making it hard to breathe. There was no Jacie in her school. And there was only one Wayland. 

One whom she knew quite well. 

Kaelie looked up, mildly surprised. "It says Jacie Wayland." She repeated. "She's due to join today." She looked at Clary strangely before she turned her gaze back to the screen. 

Clary sank onto the sofa near her, her head clasped in her hands. Flashes of unwanted memories passed in front of her eyes, making it even harder to get air in her lungs. _Please, let it be a mistake._ She wanted to scream, but no voice came out _. I can't do this anymore._

Suddenly, goosebumps erupted all over her skin, as if her body somehow knew before her brain that he was here. She felt him long before the faint sound of his low, slightly husky voice hit her ears. 

"Jace Wayland, Shadowhunters' Academy." 

And that was it. 

Her body seemed to work on itself as she got up from the sofa, picking up her bag and moving to the counter. She could feel his surprised eyes on her, but she didn't dare look back at him. She just couldn't. 

And then, she was standing next to him, the closest she had been since the past one year. Her head swam as his familiar scent took over her senses, suffocating her. 

When she spoke, however, she sounded cold and hard. Like always. 

"There has clearly been some confusion here." She raised her eyebrows at Kaelie, who was typing at her computer furiously now, trying to find Jace's name in the list. "There's no Jacie in our school." Clary waited patiently, glaring at the receptionist. 

Kaelie finally gave up, sighing before giving the two of them an apologetic glace. "His form here," she pointed to the screen, "says Jacie. It seems your school made a mistake while sending in the details." 

Clary raised her eyebrows. "So, well, give me the keys to a different room now." Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, she continued. "He can stay in 2306." 

It hurt to talk about him, but she was sure her voice hadn't shaken at all. 

"Umm – about that." Kaelie twisted her fingers nervously. "We only have fifty rooms here, and each room has been allotted to specific colleges. Yours, well – we thought you were both girls, so …" 

"Well, as you can clearly see, we're not." Clary snapped. "So, give me the keys to some other room." Her heart thumped, and she could feel her head throbbing. This was not going well. 

"I would've for sure Ma'am, had there been some free room. But there isn't." Kaelie finally said. "You two will have to share rooms now, I'm sorry." 

"Are you kidding me?" Clary gasped. "Doesn't this place have any ethics? He's a guy. I'm a girl. You want us to _share_ rooms?" Clary felt him inhale deeply behind her, but she couldn't seem to care. "Do something, you moron! Can't you hear me?" She shouted, her nerves fraying. 

Kaelie sighed, as if she had heard this a lot before. "I'm really sorry, ma'am, and had we known that he's a guy, we would've booked two single rooms for you. But you don't have to worry about your safety. There are two separate bedrooms with locks inside, and there's some pepper spray at the – " 

"For Christ's sake, you bimbo, you think I'm scared he'll rape me?" Clary almost screamed, her hands itching to slap her. She suddenly realized what she had said when she felt him stiffen next to her, his hands curling into fists, but she didn't care. She couldn't stay in the same room as him for the next two months. There was a limit to which she could bear pain. 

"Can't you – just change our rooms? I'm ready to stay with anybody else." Clary pleaded. "Please?" 

Kaelie sighed. "All single accommodation rooms are booked, Ma'am. I understand how you feel, but nothing can be done." 

_You don't understand how I feel, bitch! You didn't fall in love with a man who left you, and now you want me to share a room with him? Are you fucking crazy?_ Clary desperately wanted to shout, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Just like they couldn't when he left her that night in the rain. 

Kaelie seemed to see the tension between the two of them, as she cleared her throat. "We do have a bedroom free in one of the double room suites, but the other room be occupied by a guy as well, so it will be the same." 

Clary's head shot up, her eyes bright. She could bear with living with a stranger, not with _him_. Just as she opened her mouth to say yes to Kaelie, Jace beat her to it. 

"That won't be necessary." He stepped up, taking part in the conversation for the first time. "I'll take up a room in some other hotel close by. Clarissa can take the suite." 

Clary couldn't help but look at him at that, her emerald eyes burning with fury. His cool, expressionless eyes met hers, refusing to acknowledge the fire that burned inside them. 

Clarissa felt hot all over, her hands longing to break something. She knew perfectly that he was aware that the closest hotel to Idris Academy was more than fifteen miles away, and it didn't make it easier that he was giving up his own comfort for her. At that moment, she hated him more than she ever had. 

"I'm sorry Sir, but I'm afraid that's impossible. According to the rules of the University, you have to stay in your allotted rooms." Kaelie sighed, and it was clear she was losing patience. "Please, I'll have to request you to cooperate." 

Jace turned to Clary, and for the first time in the evening, she noticed how he had changed in the past year. The light in his gold eyes seemed to have faded, and he looked – tired. There were dark bags under his eyes, and she was sure he hasn't been sleeping well. 

"Please, Clarissa." He said, and Clary could feel hot tears burning at the back of her eyes. "Just this once." 

Clary wanted to scream, to fight, to cry. She wanted to tell him how he broke her heart, the hate that burned within her for him. 

But this was Jace. 

And like always, he was the only one to whom she lost, no matter how hard she tried to fight. 

Pulling out the room card, she placed it on the counter before walking out from the building into the open air. 

She didn't let her tears fall. 

… 

**_I'm terrible._**

**_The previous story didn't have a future, but this one does, I swear. I have it all plotted in my head, and I won't let you down._**

**_What do you think? How's Clary? Why is her temper so bad, and from where did she get that scar? And Jace? Does he still have feelings for her? If yes, why did he leave her in the first place?_**

**_REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK._**

**_LOVE YOU._**


	2. Chapter 2

_She blinked, but her vision was as dark as before. It took her a while to realize where she was, and her heartbeat immediately increased. She looked down, and saw her dress was in tatters._

" _Hello?" She called out, and noted with an increasing sense of dread that her voice sounded like that of a little girl. "Please, let me go." She called out, her voice breaking. She pulled at her cuffs, chafing her wrists. "I won't tell anyone, I swear." She sobbed._

 _There was a rustle, and the door of the cell swung open. A shadow appeared at the entrance, and she felt a chill cross her spine. "Now, baby girl. We don't shout, remember? Tell me, what happens to girls who don't do as they're told?"_

 _She couldn't help it then. A scream tore through her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, no!" The cane was there; she could almost feel the stinging pain on her back. "I'm sorry!" She cried.  
He smiled. "Now, then. Who's a good girl?" The stick was raised into the air and the world turned bright red._

Clary shot up in her bed, a scream turning into spluttering gasp as she breathed in large mouthfuls of air. Her skin felt clammy, vision was blurry. Running a hand through her long, dark hair, she closed her eyes and counted to ten with each exhale.

"Get a grip, idiot." She muttered to herself, but didn't lie back. It would be useless to even try to get some sleep now, she knew. Climbing out of her bed, she went to the attached bathroom, splashing her face with water.

Her day had been fairly uneventful. She had not returned to the hostel till it was time for dinner, and had locked herself in her room before Jace even got up from his table. She couldn't avoid him forever, but she was going to try her best to.

Putting on a long t-shirt she had taken from Jon, she carefully opened the door of her room. Peeping around to make sure that Jace wasn't there, she tiptoed through the living room into the large balcony, closing her eyes as the cool midnight breeze hit her face.

Pulling out her phone, she called her brother. He picked up after one ring. "Clary?" He sounded immensely relieved. "God, I told you to call the minute you reach there. I was worried; what happened?"

"It's fine, Jon." Clary smiled softly. "I was slightly busy, that's all." There was a slight rustle on the line, and she could instantly imagine him shifting the phone from one ear to the other in his office chair as he went through the files on his table. "You're in your office. Father grilling you up again?" She said, unable to stop the bitterness from creeping into her voice.

She heard him sigh on the line. "You can call him dad, you know."  
There was an abrupt silence before he spoke again, sounding slightly worried. "And why aren't you asleep yet? Nightmares again?"

Clary shook her head. "No, I just got up for a snack, actually." She lied.

Jon was quiet before he spoke. "You can fool Ms. Brown, but I'm your elder brother, you know. You never get up from sleep unless you have bad dream."

Clary was silent till he spoke again, soothing and calm. "You know I'm with you, no matter what. Ms. Brown says you keep too many of your feelings bottled up." He exhaled loudly. "Why won't you talk to me, Clary? Don't you trust me?"

"Listen, I - I have to go." She said abruptly. "I'm really, really sleepy. I'll call you tomorrow for sure, okay? Goodnight." She cut the line and threw the phone on the small couch. Lying to him was hard, but also necessary.

"You didn't eat anything tonight."

Clary felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as his familiar scent of apples and metal floated into the air. Judging by his voice, she knew he was standing close by. She weighed her options to simply walk away without answering, but she realized she would have to deal with him some way or the other.

"That's none of your business." She turned, meeting his gaze with a coolness she didn't feel. Almost unconsciously, she noted the dark bags under his eyes and the tired lines on his flawless face. "So go back to sleep now."

Jace sighed. "Look, Clary." She stopped herself from wincing as her name flowed from his lips with ease. "I know you don't want to talk to me, and I understand. But we're going to have to live together for two months, and it's not going to work out this way."

He ran a hand through his golden hair. "Can we put aside our past just for now? Please?"  
Clary couldn't help but close her eyes as she tried to calm the raging storm within her. This was all she had meant to him; his past.

"Okay." She finally said. "Fine." Unable to say anything else, she lowered her head and moved to the living room.

"Wait." His hand shot out and his fingers wrapped around her arm, and she stiffened. "Don't touch me." She said quietly, and he immediately removed his grip.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled. She turned to him, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to say something.

"I brought you some pizza from dinner." He rubbed the back of his neck subconsciously. "It's in the microwave. You can have it if you're hungry; it's cheese and mushroom."

Clary froze.

"Don't do this." She whispered.  
Jace's eyebrows rose up in a silent question. "Don't do this, okay?" She repeated loudly, her voice cracking slightly. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU BLOODY, FUCKING CARE!"

Jace flinched as if she had physically hit him. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. "Clary …"

"Stop." She glared at him, her emerald eyes daggers. "Stop it."

She almost ran to her room, feeling his gaze on her neck.

She had no idea how she was going to stand these two months.  
She wasn't sure she going to.


	3. Chapter 3

Slinging her bag across her shoulder, she looked up at the door of the auditorium she was standing in front of, and then at the schedule in her hand. When sure that it was her room, she took a deep breath and pushed it open.

The class was almost full, and Clary avoided any friendly glances as she made way to an empty table at the last. As she pushed her bag into the chair and sat down, she felt rather than saw someone standing hesitantly near the desk.

"Yes?" She asked not too patiently to the blue-eyed girl who stood gaping in front of her. "Can I help you with something?" She knew she shouldn't be so rude to her fellow students, but last night's incident hadn't done anything to improve her usually sour mood.

"I - I," the girl stammered. "You're Clary ... Clary Fray, aren't you?" The girl squeaked, her voice making Clary wince.

"Yes, but how do you know me?" She asked, her eyebrows raised. "I don't think I've ever seen you before."

The girl almost started jumping up and down in excitement. "Oh my God, it's you. YOU!" She cried shrilly, and almost every pair of eyes in the room turned towards the two of them.

"You were one of the children in the Sebastian kidnapping case, weren't you? My mom did your report; I was a kid back then." She clapped her hands together. "You've always been my hero, you know? You saved all the children from there! I mean, this is like a dream come true for me, I can't believe it, and ..."

The girl went on, but Clary couldn't hear her over the loud roaring of blood in her ears.

 _Saved them all_.

 _Sebastian_.

 _Hero_.

Distantly, she could see curious, admiring faces coming closer to her. She wanted to get up, to tell them to give her some space, but the room was disappearing from in front of her. She blinked furiously, but the voices were slowly drowning away and all she could hear were footsteps.

His footsteps.

She cried out, curling into herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Go away." She whispered. "Please, go away."

She wanted to open her eyes, but she knew what she would see. She couldn't bear to see those children again, their wounds, their pain ...

She couldn't see _him_ again.

The air suddenly became too thick to breathe. She felt like a fish without water, gasping for breath. She needed someone. Jon. Her mom. Someone.

"Jon?" She called out softly. "Jon, take me away. Help me, _please."_ She blindly reached out for the comforting arms of her brother. "He's here, he'll catch me again. Don't let him take me away, I don't like the dark. Jon? Don't leave me. Please." She called out softly, helplessly.

Just when she was sure she was going to lose her mind, she heard a very familiar voice shout.

" _Get away from her_ , you morons! Can't you see she's having trouble breathing? Let me through, RIGHT NOW."

She whimpered in relief as she felt strong arms wrap her in a tight embrace, burying herself further into Jace's chest. Dimly, her brain was telling her something about her heart breaking and him being the cause, but right now, he was here.

And that was all.

That was enough.

"Clary, listen to me." He stroked her hair, rocking her back and forth soothingly in his arms. "You're not in that cell anymore. You're safe, with me. I won't let anyone take you anywhere, okay?" His arms tightened around her waist. "You're safe. Sebastian's gone, forever." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Just let those memories go. Come back to me."

Clary breath came out in slow, short gasps as she clutched at his shirt. "And what if he comes back?" She whispered into his chest. "What will I do?"

Jace exhaled, his breath fanning out on her neck. "Oh, _Clary_." He said softly before slipping his fingers under her chin, gently raising her face. "Hey. Look at me."

Clary finally opened her eyes, wide and dark with pure terror screaming from them. They met his, and he brushed away an unshed tear from her eyelids.

"If he comes back, we'll fight him." His hand slid to her cheek, thumb running over her cheekbone. "Together."

The words hit her hard, like an ointment to her wounded soul. She closed her eyes.

 _Together._

That was all she wanted.

...

Clary woke up later in the infirmary, a nurse by her side.

"It's okay, dear." The woman said smiling comfortingly. "Your PTSD medicines, when did you last have them?"

Clary rubbed at her eyes, her head throbbing. "I don't - I don't remember." She lied.

The nurse sat down next to her. "Your friend, he was so worried about you! Paced holes into this carpet, he did. I had to drag him out. He was the one who brought your medication from your room." She patted her hand. "Nice boy you've got yourself, honey."

Clary swallowed the huge lump in her throat, nodding. "Th - thank you."

She took a deep breath, pushing her hair back. "How long did it last? Did Jace tell you?"

The nurse pursed her lips, thinking. "He said he wasn't sure, but it was ten minutes or something." She shook her head. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can be a mess if not taken care of, child. Look after yourself." Thankfully, she did not ask any questions and helped her off the bed.

As Clary made way to her room, she realized something.

Apart from Jon, there had only been one person who could pull her out from an attack.

Jace.

She had thought that her feelings for him had died over time.

Apparently, they had not.


	4. Chapter 4

Clary slowly opened the room of their suite, her eyes roaming around the living room. Jace wasn't there.

Biting her lip, she reached the door of his room. "Jace?" She said softly. When there was no reply, she reached up and knocked at the door. Once. Twice.

After a moment's hesitation, she tried the handle. Finding it unlocked, she swung it open. It was empty.

She frowned. _Where was he?_

Just when she was about to close the door behind her, her eyes focused on the small, gleaming object on his bedside table.

She brushed the hair from her eyes, debating weather to go in or not. His room was exactly like the one at his house, and brought back too many unwanted memories.

His bed sheet was a velvety shade of black, and so were his slippers resting neatly below his bed. Her gaze fell on the cupboard resting against the opposite wall.

Without opening it, she knew how his things would be arranged: Shirts on the right corner and pants on the left. His socks and underwear would be in the highest shelf, and handkerchiefs in the lowest.

With hesitant steps, she reached the center of the room. Slowly, she ran her fingers over the bed sheet. Images of her and him, of _them_ ran in her mind like an old film, and she felt her knees go weak.

Plopping down on the bed, she closed her eyes as she thought back to the day she first met him.

.

.

It had been Jon's idea that she should start boxing.

"If she has to have a hobby that keeps her mind off the past, why not choose one that'll make her feel ... powerful?" He had asked Ms. Brown while stroking Clary's hair, his voice low with worry. It was one those days when her attack had been much worse than usual and she had to be sedated. Her psychiatrist had agreed instantly, and her father couldn't be bothered to care.

Despite Jon's insistence that she gets private tutoring, she made it clear that she wanted to join the club. "It won't feel real unless I _fight_ people, you know?" She had confessed to him. Never to be able to argue with her, he had agreed.

It was funny how Jon took up the role of her mother _and_ father after the incident. Her mother because she was dead, and her father because he was never there.

This was how Clary found herself walking into the only boxing club of the city.

To this day, she remembers the stares as she pulled on her gloves and tied up her hair. She was the only female there was, and all those eyes; some curious, some admiring and some scornful, made her want to both run away and stay.

Her instructor was a man in mid-forties and looked thoroughly freaked out at the idea of teaching Mr. Fray, THE Mr. Fray's daughter. But as Jon had made sure, he was the best there could be.

After an hour of teaching her the basics, he had said that it was enough for the day and she could leave.

But she didn't.

After the incident, it was like she had died inside. There was nothing that made her smile, made her frown, made her _feel_. Every day was the same, with memories that wouldn't let her sleep, sometimes not even let her breathe. She was almost sure at times that she was in a cell again, though a different one.

But today, it was like she was alive.

Every punch to the bag made her want to hit more. Every time her knuckles hit it, she would see Sebastian's face. Every hit drained her of the suppressed hate, frustration, fear and anger.  
It was the first time after the incident that she wanted to do something without someone telling her to.

And so, long after her instructor left, she kept practicing as if she was driven. She couldn't hear anything except the loud beating of her heart and her uneven breathing. Sweat dripped down her face and soaked her clothes, but she couldn't care.

She was alive.  
She could feel.

And she would've gone on till her muscles gave way, if he hadn't arrived.

She heard a cough by her side, and stopped abruptly. Ready to snap, she turned and saw a guy her age looking at her. "Yes?" She asked, her voice cold and hard.

He was extraordinarily handsome, she noted distantly. His eyes were an unnatural shade of gold, matching his hair. He was tall, much taller than her, and the shirt he wore failed to hide the perfect lines and planes of his muscles.

"If you bring your legs a little closer, you wouldn't have to put that much of stress on your middle." His voice was low, attractively hoarse. "And lean forward slightly. It increases the power of your hits."

She had looked at him for a long time, trying to decipher if he was sincere. His eyes didn't give anything away, though. They were like walls, not letting her see anything inside.

But she did as he said, her eyebrows raising when she felt the difference. "Thank you." She said, and he smiled slightly in acknowledgement. Holding out his hand, he held hers in a firm grip. "Jace."  
She nodded. "I'm Clary."

"Two weeks from now, we have a tournament here. I'm looking for a partner," He continued, strapping on his gloves. "And you don't seem to have one. Want to get together?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you pitying on me?" She asked, her voice harsh. "Because I don't need it, thank you."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his voice mildly curious. She shrugged. "You haven't even seen me fight. I'm new, have just started. How do you know how good I am?"

He met her eyes then, gold clashing with green. "You're here in a boxing club full of men, and yet have been practicing for the last three hours." He smiled then, and Clary hadn't seen anything more beautiful. "If that's not being a fighter, I don't know what else is."

.

.

.

Blinking hard, Clary got up from his bed, running out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her. Locking herself in her room, she gulped down two sleeping pills, embracing the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Timid but regular knocking on the door woke Clary up. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at the clock beside her bed and sighed. Only one hour. Perhaps Ms. Brown was right. She _had_ become resistant to sleeping pills.

Stretching herself, she pushed the door of her room open and called out. "Just a second." The knocking stopped immediately and Clary pulled on a shirt before opening the main door, expecting it to be Jace.

However her eyes widened a fraction when she saw a pair of large blue eyes looking at her fearfully.

"H - Hi." The girl from her class stuttered. "I'm Isabelle." Before Clary could say anything, she burst out. "I'm so so sorry about today morning, I really am! It's just that I grew up listening to your stories, about how brave and how wonderfully strong you were for having withstood this, so when I met you, it was like a dream come true for me." She paused for a breath. "I understand that you must be really, really angry with me, but please try to forgive me. I'll do _anything_ , I swear!"

Clary looked at her, ready to snap. But suddenly, something clicked inside of her when she saw Isabelle look at her with hope in her eyes.

 _This is_ _what_ _I could've been._ She realized with a shock. She only had blurry memories of herself before the kidnapping, but she remembered being very happy all the time, giving flowers to her mom every morning in return of a few hundred kisses, laughing as she ran in the park with Jon.

Isabelle was what she could've been. Happy, hopeful and gentle.

"It's alright." She said, watching as Isabelle's head shot up in disbelief. "You didn't know about my PTSD, it's no fault of yours."

Her face broke into a smile so wide that Clary was sure she'd have an ache in her jaw. "Oh my. Oh my! Thank you do much, Clary! You're - you're amazing!" She squealed, and Clary felt herself smiling slightly at her excitement. "Why don't you come inside?"

Isabelle shook her head regretfully. "I'm so sorry, but I have to run. I have practice, and I just decided to stop on the way." Shyly, she pulled out a thermos from behind her back. "The reports said that you like chocolate very much, so I made some hot cocoa for you." She said, not meeting Clary's eyes.

Clary took the thermos, touched. "I - I ..." Lost for words, she looked at the blue eyed girl in front of her. "This means a lot, Isabelle. Thank you so much."

Isabelle grinned. "No. Thank _you_." She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. "I'll leave, then. Goodbye!" Clary smiled at her, watching her retreating figure as she clutched at the bright pink thermos.

Finally, she called out. "Isabelle! Wait." She ran down the stairs, finding the girl at the entrance of the building.

"Yes? Is the cocoa not good?" Isabelle asked nervously. Clary laughed. "No, it's not that. I just - I just wanted to ask if we could, you know, be friends." She said, her eyes wandering around the room nervously. "I don't have any, and you seem of - of a good sort." She finished lamely, sighing. "Sorry. I'm no good at this."

Before she could comprehend, she was pulled in a tight hug. "Of course we can!" Isabelle said, and Clary could hear the smile in her voice. Suddenly, her happiness didn't irritate her so much. They pulled apart, Isabelle's eyes sparkling. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Clary smiled. "Yes, you will."

As she walked back to her room, she felt - content. Nice. She missed having a friend, but couldn't muster up the energy to try and make one. Now, perhaps she'll find one in her.

Loud noises of doors banging and shouting from their room made Clary look up sharply. It was Jace's voice.

Running, she reached the suite, finding the door open. "Jace? Is everything okay?"

Jace was by her in a flash, and Clary bit back a gasp. His hair was in a mess, and his eyes were wild with fear. He was panting, and Clary noted fearfully that his hands were shaking.

"Where were you?" He asked, holding her shoulders tightly, as if afraid she'll disappear. His voice was cracked, and Clary felt her pulse rise. These were the signs.

"You need to sit down, Jace." She said calmly, holding his forearm as she led him to the nearest chair.

"I came in, the door was open and you weren't there." He repeated as Clary gently pushed him on the chair and closed his eyelids. "I'm here." She whispered, taking his hand and tracing circles on his palm. "Nothing's wrong. No need to panic." She said, her fingers light as a feather on his skin. "Everything is fine. Just breathe." Jace leaned back on his chair, his erratic breathing slowly turning normal.

"Don't do that." He said softly, his eyes still closed. "Don't disappear like that. It scared me."

Clary felt her body stiffen, her eyes burning. _He_ was the one who disappeared, not she. But she said nothing.

Once his breathing became normal, he opened his eyes. They were calm now, And Clary let go of his hand. "I'll get you some water." She said getting up, not meeting his eyes.

"Clary?" She stopped, but didn't turn. There was complete silence for a second.

"I'm sorry." Jace said, so quietly that she had to strain her ears to hear him. "I'm sorry for everything. I didn't deserve you. I never will."

Clary stood still, wanting to scream at him and say that yes, he should goddamned be sorry. But she realized that all this time, she had taken it for granted that he felt the same way for her as she did for him.

It wasn't his fault he left. It was her's for expecting him to stay.

"It's fine, Jace." She said, her voice thick. "Actually, it is me who should be sorry." She closed her eyes.

"I expected you to give me something you didn't have."

Before he could reply, she left.

 **I'm sorry for the very late update. I'm a horrible human.**

 **What do you think? What happened the Jace? Why was he so scared? And will they warm up to each other now?**

 **I know Izzy is OOC and has blue eyes, but well. I'm sorry, but that's how I imagined her.**

 **Love you.**


	6. Chapter 6

Hi!

If you've noticed, sometimes the names of the characters are changed. Clary becomes Zoe, Jon becomes Zach. I'm so so sorry for that. It's just that this same book is on Wattpad, and I sometimes get confused about the names of the characters. I've tried to correct them all, but if you find any mistakes, please point them out to me.


	7. Chapter 7

" _I expected you to give me something you didn't have."_

The first thing Jace had noticed and appreciated about Clary was her strength. Her ability to cope with situations no matter how difficult and dark they were, despite of everything she had been through.

But it wasn't until now that her strength hurt him so much that he felt numb. Dead.

Leaning further into the chair, he closed his eyes. He felt tired, _so_ tired that all he wanted to do was to lie down and never get up. He could hear Clary's quiet sobs from the next room and felt a burning, searing hate for himself. He hated it when she cried. It was like watching his heart being ripped out and slowly crushed into a million pieces.

He still doesn't know the exact point of time when he started to fall for her. Perhaps it was the very day he saw her at the The Club, her eyes fire and resolve steel. There was something about her that called out to him, something that reminded him of himself.

Theirs wasn't a friendship when it began. It was a strange bond. They never spoke about anything other than boxing, but even their silence had a strange intimacy. He never mentioned her past, and she didn't ask about his.

She'd never accept it, but she was beautiful. Her face would always be so cold, so emotionless as compared to her eyes, which would seem to speak a million things at once. He could always judge her mood by her eyes.

He knew she had a dark past the first time they met. Despite her temper and her rudeness, there was a strange vulnerability in her demeanor. Not that she let it show, though. But he saw it. The nervous flickering of her eyes. How she bit her lip sometimes when she was upset. Her too long sweaters and track pants all year round had a story, a story she either was too ashamed or too scared of.

Slowly, she started opening up to him. When they'd sit on the narrow benches during breaks at The Club, she would randomly tell him things about Jon. She loved her brother more than anyone else in the world, he could see that.

After some time, he realized he loved watching her smile. She didn't do it often, so he deliberately did things that he came to know she liked. They were absurd, as he wondered at first.

He still remembers the first time he actually heard her laugh.

They were walking back from The Club and it suddenly started to rain. He quickly took shelter under a tree and called her to do the same, but she stood there, watching the first drops land on her palms with wonder in her eyes. And then she laughed. Loud and carefree as she splashed around in the water, getting completely soaked but not caring a bit.

Was it then he fell for her? Perhaps. He wouldn't ever know. There were so, so many things about her that he loved, so many things that made her the beautiful puzzle that she was that he'll never be able to select one.

Letting her go was the hardest thing he had ever done. Every moment that passed reminded him of her, and hurt just as much as it did at first. But after what happened, it was the only thing he could do. It was a weak, cowardly thing, but there was no way he could bear losing someone he loved again. No way he would be able to stand it without falling apart.

The only thing that kept him sane was the guarantee the Clary will now be safe. Away from hurt, away from pain. Away from everything he promised he'd never let get close to her.

And now, she wasn't.

His hands closed into fists as he thought about the phone call he had in the morning. It was like a horrible nightmare coming true, like the world had slipped from under his feet.

At the moment, he had the wild urge to see her, to make sure she's okay. And when he didn't find her, it was like going in the past and living the horrible moment all over again. Watching someone you love go away forever, yet be able to do nothing about it.

His eyes shot open when he heard a very familiar melody. In a flash, he reached the door of her room. Leaning against it, his eyes screwed shut as her slightly shaky but beautiful as ever voice hit his ears.

He pressed his forehead against the cold wood, his hands shaking. It was the song they wrote together, the very first one.

 _It might be quiet,_

 _It might be cold,_

 _But when the darkness comes,_

 _We'll fight it_ _together._

He slipped onto the floor, huddling close to the door. He wouldn't let her go this time.

He'll protect her.

No matter what.

00

 **I know some things aren't clear, but they will very soon. Till then, please review. PLEASE. *fall on knees* PLEASE. PUH LEEZ.**


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